


Stranger

by Jenny_Jensen



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Dramatic, F/F, F/M, adoption story, bughead - Freeform, varchie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 15:03:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenny_Jensen/pseuds/Jenny_Jensen
Summary: Elizabeth Lodge was never curious about her birth parents, or where she came from; Hiram was her father, Hermione her mother, and Veronica her fiercely loyal, loving sister. She didn't care about who had given birth to her, who she looked like, or whose blood she carried.She didn't care, until she moved to Riverdale at the start of her junior year, and the mystery of her adoption began to unravel.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

“I’m not touching it!”

Betty glanced back at her, rolling her eyes, completely exasperated. “Uh, V? It’s just a door.”

“B!” She gasped, looking horrified. “Do you have _any_ idea who has even _touched_ this door?”

“Um... People who go here?”

Veronica’s head bobbed up and down in an enthusiastic nod. _“Exactly!_ _Public school_ students!”

She sighed. “Can we go inside already?”

“I’m not touching that door!”

Rolling her eyes again, Betty reached for the handle.

“I’ll do it, Veronica.”

“Wait!” Veronica reached into her purse, pulling out her trusty vile of strawberry scented hand sanitizer. “Okay, go ahead.”

Mumbling under her breath, Betty pulled the door open, stepping inside Riverdale High for the first time. While Veronica was absolutely horrified about the idea of attending a _public school_ , Betty felt surprisingly excited at the chance for some normalcy in her otherwise privileged life. Raised in New York City for the last sixteen years, she had shared a penthouse apartment on the Upper East Side with her parents and sister until just a few days ago. With Hiram in jail, and so fed up with her husband’s secretive ways, Hermione had woken the girls up in the middle of the night, ushering the confused sisters into a waiting town car, leaving absolutely no forwarding address for their father when he eventually did return home. To cover their tracks, Hermione had told her social circle that they were going to the Hamptons for an end of summer getaway. Veronica was still pouting that she had been forced to leave her phone behind, even after she had been presented with a newer, better model.

“Coast is clear, V.” She taunted.

Veronica gestured for her to hold her hand out, and when she did, poured a generous amount of the light pink liquid into her palm.

Betty rubbed her hands together until they were dry.

“Oh _god.”_ Veronica sneered, glancing around. “This place looks like it hasn’t been redecorated since, like, 1949.”

She shook her head.

“Honestly, B, I feel like I’m wandering through the lost epilogue of Our Town.” Her sister pretended to shudder. “I wonder what the social scene like here. Do you think there’s any night clubs?”

Betty opened her mouth, ready to tell Veronica that she didn’t _need_ any night clubs, not after some of their wilder moments in the city, their so called friends always egging her on further, she had often stayed sober enough to keep the raven haired girl from doing anything _too_ crazy, but she didn’t get the chance to speak, as a tall, lanky boy wearing a nice sweater, a messenger bag hanging off one shoulder, books tucked under his other arm, turned the corner, his eyes lighting up when he saw them.

“A strip club called the Ho Zone and a tragic gay bar called Innuendo.” He answered.

Veronica grinned.

“Friday nights, football games and then tailgate parties at the Mallmart parking lot. Saturday night is movie night, regardless of what's playing at the Bijou, and you better get there early, because we don't have reserved seating in Riverdale. And Sunday nights...” His arm came around Betty in a friendly squeeze. “Thank God for HBO.”

The girls giggled.

“Veronica Lodge.” Veronica said, offering him a hand. “My sister, Elizabeth Lodge, also known as Betty, and you are?”

“Kevin Keller.” The boy replied, smiling. “I’m...”

“Gay, thank God.” She almost looked relieved. “Let’s be _bes_ t friends.”

Kevin glanced from Betty to Veronica with a very intrigued expression.

“Is it true what they say about your dad?” He asked.

Betty’s fingers curled into a fist. Her sister scowled, seemingly unaware of the blonde’s actions.

“That he's the devil incarnate?” Veronica shot back, protectiveness lacing through her tone. “I stand by my father, and so does Betty.”

Betty only nodded.

It had been nearly three months since the penthouse had been raided, her father yanked from the apartment in handcuffs, her mother holding both her and Veronica as if they were children again while Hiram called out to them, offering promise after promise, vowing to see them again soon, and she still felt like she had that night.

Numb. Completely void of any feeling other than fear or disappointment.

“Does everyone here know?” Veronica demanded, and when Kevin offered her a sad smile, her frown deepened. “Wonderful. Ten minutes in, and I’m already the Blue Jasmine of Riverdale High.”

“What does that make me?” Betty asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

She snorted. “Sister of Blue Jasmine?”

Betty giggled, her elbow lightly grazing Veronica’s ribs.

Kevin offered to take them to the front office to get their schedules and locker assignments, and then show them around before their first class. Veronica happily agreed, hooking an arm through Betty’s as they started off down the hall.

_“Shit.”_

And then, Betty went tumbling, a shoulder knocking into her own.

“What the hell!” Veronica cried, clasping her wrist, yanking her upright. “Watch where you’re going, asshole!”

“Hi, Archie.” Kevin greeted.

“Kev.” The boy responded, raking a hand through his hair, as bright as copper, before turning his attention to Betty. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously.”

“V.” Betty warned, meeting his gaze, momentarily distracted by the vibrant blue of his eyes. “Oh, no! It was my fault! I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

_“B.”_ Her sister hissed, staring at her as if she had grown two heads. She turned to give him the onceover, and seemed to understand immediately. “Oh my god...”

He raised an eye brow. “Is everything okay?”

“Please, forgive my _horrible_ first impression.” Veronica practically pleaded, taking his hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Veronica.”

“Archie.” He said, grinning down at her. “Welcome to Riverdale.”

Archie turned to Betty, his smile just as genuine.

“What’s your name?”

“Pauline... No... Wait...” Betty stammered, internally wincing at his sudden amused expression. “Pauline Elizabeth... Elizabeth... Lizza-Betty... Elizabeth Betty... Elizabeth Pauline... Lodge...”

“My sister.” Veronica nudged her, giggling. “My adorable, though sometimes rambling sister, Elizabeth Lodge, but she prefers Betty, right, B?”

She could only nod.

“It’s nice to meet you, Betty.” Archie told her.

He stared at her for only a moment longer before his attention was back on Veronica.

Betty bit down on her lip.

Kevin shot her a sympathetic smile, like he knew exactly what she was thinking; it was hard to get anyone’s attention when she had Veronica Lodge for a sister. Veronica was striking, her raven locks constantly falling to her shoulders in perfect curls, her dark brown irises lighting up when she laughed, her fair skin and curves to kill for attracting every boy they had ever known, and Betty was average, with her blonde hair, green eyes, lanky form, and her tendency to dig her nails into the palms of her hands until marks remained for even weeks afterwards. It was Veronica people noticed first, always Veronica, never Betty, and she had learned from a very young age to accept that.

Archie offered random historical facts that her sister pretended to be interested in while they moved down the hall as a trio, Kevin trailing along behind them. Veronica’s grip on her arm didn’t waver, and it was what kept her from falling again as her shoulder collided into someone else’s for the second time.

However, the boy she knocked into was not as apologetic as Archie had been.

_“Fuck.”_ He bellowed, whipping his head around to scowl at her.

Betty stared back at him in shock.

His hair was as black as night, covered by a strange, almost crown shaped beanie, with a single curl twisting in front of his icy blue eyes that she doubted would show even an ounce of kindness by the way he glowered, holding her in place with a powerful glare.

“Watch where you’re fucking going.” He gritted out.

“I...” Betty stammered. “I... I’m sorry!”

“Jug.” Archie warned, stepping up beside her, his stance suddenly protective.

“Arch.” The boy sneered, sounding just as thrilled. “Friends of yours, Andrews?”

“Actually, they are.” He replied, crossing his arms. He moved forward, shielding both her and Veronica from view. “So leave them the hell alone, Jughead.”

Jughead, it was a such a strange name, Betty thought, sniggered. “Or what, Arch?”

“You’ll deal with _me.”_ A new voice announced.

“Chuck.” Archie mumbled.

“I’ve got this, Andrews.” Chuck replied, crossing his arms. “Why don’t you get lost, Donnie Darko? Girls like the Lodge sisters, here, don’t want anything to do with fucking _Snakes._ Come near either of them again, and I’ll beat you senseless.”

Betty glanced back at Kevin, her eyes widening.

_Snake?_

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

_Later._ He mouthed, waving her away.

“Whatever, Clayton.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for your pathetic attempts at intimidation. You know damn well who would win if we were on the streets.”

“Jones.” Someone called.

“Gotta roll.” Jughead muttered, a smirk spreading across his face, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, where a group of leather clad individuals waited patiently for him to join them. “But this has been fun, Arch, real fun. I can’t wait for our next little... Chat.”

Glancing around Chuck’s ridgid form, he pierced her again, almost looking amused.

“See you around, _Princess.”_ Jughead jibed, spinning on his heel.

“Unlikely.” Veronica taunted under her breath, clasping Betty’s arm. “Are you okay, Betty-Bee?”

It was only as he walked away did Betty notice the jacket he wore, matching the others, a distinct insignia stitched into the back. A green, two headed snake, and the words _Southside Serpents._

She actually shuddered.

“B?” Her sister demanded, worry lines creasing her forehead.

“Are you okay?” Chuck questioned, turning to face her.

She nodded.

“I’m Chuck.” He said.

“Betty.” She answered.

“Veronica.” Veronica took his outstretched hand when Betty did not, shaking it firmly. “Who was that guy?”

“No one.” Archie grumbled, brows knitting together, lips forming a thin line. “He’s... He’s no one, okay? No one either of you want to know.”

Chuck clapped him on the back. “Take it easy, Andrews, it’s ancient history, alright? You’re with us now. Betty, can I walk you to class?”

“O-Oh...” Betty stuttered. “Um, I... Uh... I...”

“She would be _delighted.”_ Veronica replied, shooting her a hard look, elbow grazing her ribs in a none too subtle jab. “We just have to get our schedules first.”

“Great!” Chuck grinned. “Archie and I can show you to the office. C’mon.”

He started down the opposite hallway.

She could feel eyes burning holes into her back.

Braving a glance over her shoulder, she saw Jughead speaking to one of his friends, nodding, but not looking at them. Meeting her gaze, his smirk grew.

“He’s cute, B.” Veronica whispered, pulling her along.

“Very.” Betty agreed.

Seemingly satisfied, her sister beamed, their arms still intertwined as she fell into step with Archie, resuming their earlier conversation.

Betty smiled despite herself.

Veronica had no idea that she had not been talking about Chuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That is the proper way to hit someone with a pillow, mi queridos.” Their mother declared, grinning down at them, a playful glint in her dark eyes. 
> 
> Betty and Veronica shared a look.

* * *

“This apartment could not get any worse, mother.”

“Veronica.” Hermione chided gently, holding her prized first edition Monet against the far wall, just to see how it would look. “I told you, darling, the apartment may be small, a pied-a-terre, but-”

 _“Quality, always.”_ Veronica mocked, the two women speaking together as she glanced around in disdain.

“Plus, it's the only piece of property in my name and not your father’s.” Their mother added, placing the painting back into the box, protecting it.

Her gaze fell on Betty, fixing her signature ponytail in mirror.

“Elizabeth.” Hermione called. “What do you think?”

“I think it has a lot of character.”’ Betty replied earnestly. “A lot of potential, all it needs is a little bit of paint, and a whole lot of love.”

A smile graced the woman’s lips.

“My eternal optimist.” She said, pride dripping from her tone. “Oh, Betty, what would I ever do without you, _mi cielito?”_

Her sister pretended to scowl.

“Kiss ass.” She grumbled, low under her breath.

Betty grinned.

Unfortunately for Veronica, Hermione seemed to have bionic hearing when it came to her two daughters.

 _“Mijita.”_ Hermione warned, arching a single, perfectly plucked brow. “Be nice to your sister, _corazoncita_. Remember how much you two love one another.”

“I was just teasing, mommy.” Veronica promised, beaming. “Betty-Bee is the absolute best friend I could ever ask for. You know how much I love you, don’t you, B?”

“Aww.” Betty gushed. “I love you too, V, more than I could ever say. In fact, I love you _so_ much, I’m going to volunteer you to paint the living room this weekend.”

She had picked the perfect time, Veronica crossing the room to study her own reflection, playfully bumping her out of the way with a single shift of her hips. Veronica was so distracted in perfecting her lipstick, that her head bobbed up and down in an enthusiastic nod.

“No problem, B.” She agreed. “You know I would do anything for...”

At the sound of Hermione’s laughter, she trailed off, her eyes narrowing knowingly.

“You little sneak!” Veronica cried, snatching one of Hermione’s many satin throw pillows from the couch, smacking her with it. “Oh you are going to pay for this, _Elizabeth Pauline.”_

“Bring it.” Betty taunted, grabbing her own pillow. _“Veronica Celia.”_

It took only seconds for a full on war to break out to break out, the two girls giggling, too lost in their pillow fight to listen to their mother’s empty threats, full naming them both, ordering them to stop.

 _“Hijas!”_ She snapped, sounding exasperated. _“Both_ of you will be painting the living this weekend. Now that’s fair.”

“Mommy.” The girls whined together.

“Also...” Hermione drew out, reaching behind her.

Veronica was hit in the chest with a goose feathered cushion, Betty in the stomach.

 _“That_ is the proper way to hit someone with a pillow, _mi queridos.”_ Their mother declared, grinning down at them, a playful glint in her dark eyes.

Betty and Veronica shared a look.

“Oh three.” Her sister whispered.

Betty nodded. “One...”

“Two...” Veronica echoed.

_“Three!”_

They attacked with full force, mother and daughters laughing alike, sharing a rare moment of bliss, the first, it seemed, since Hiram had been arrested.

“I surrender!” Hermione called, and the three collapsed into a heap on the floor. “Oh, my beautiful girls, _mi mundo entero, amores de mi vida_. What would I ever do without you?”

“Die of boredom?” Veronica guessed.

“Paint the living room yourself?” Betty questioned, giggling.

“Have absolutely no fashion sense?”

“Live a long, and unsatisfying life?”

“All of the above.” Hermione confirmed, her arms coming around them in a tight squeeze. She kissed the top of both their heads. “You girls will be late for school if you don’t hurry.”

“Ugh.” Veronica grumbled, rising, offering Betty a hand to pull her up too. _“School.”_

“Will you be home for dinner?”

Betty opened her mouth to confirm, but Veronica shook her head, cutting her off before she had the chance to speak.

“We already have plans.”

She blinked. “We do?”

 _“B.”_ Veronica rolled her eyes, gently knocking against her temple. “You were with me when Archie and Cheryl asked yesterday.”

Betty frowned; she didn’t remember much about the day before, only the red headed girl, her pink haired friend, and the red headed girl’s twin brother, whose locks were the same flaming color. He didn’t speak much, neither did the other girl, though Cheryl, clearly the Queen Bee of Riverdale High, she had introduced herself as Cheryl _Bombshell_ , had addressed them both by name, offering them immediate places on her cheerleading squad, the River Vixens, Veronica had agreed, leaving Betty no choice but to accept. She also recalled being forced to endure Archie and Veronica’s relentless flirting.

Mostly, she remembered the boy, with his piercing blue eyes, able to hold her in place with just a look.

“Oh god.” Veronica shook her head in disgust. “You’re still thinking about _him_ , aren’t you?”

“Him?” Hermione raised an eye brow. “Who is _he?_ Elizabeth Pauline, did you meet a boy?”

Her mother actually sounded _thrilled._

“Oh honey!” She cried, arms coming around Betty in another squeeze. “I want to hear _all_ about him! What’s his name? How old is he? Has he asked you out yet?”

 _“Mom.”_ Betty whined, her cheeks burning.

“We’re going to be late for school, mother.” Veronica reminded her, as Betty freed herself from her mother’s grasp. “And for the record, Elizabeth will _not_ be dating that... That... Leather wearing... _Delinquent!_ I won’t stand for it!”

“V!” Betty said.

“Veronica.” Hermione echoed. “Do you know for sure that this boy is a delinquent?”

“Well... No...”

“It isn’t up to you to decide who your sister is allowed to date, _mijita.”_ She chided. “It’s up to _me_.”

“Mom! He walks around in a leather jacket! He’s bad news!”

“There is nothing wrong with a little danger, Veronica.”

“Uh...” Betty mumbled. “Can we please go to school now?”

“Yes!” Veronica snapped, clasping her hand.

In her haste to get to the door, Veronica brushed past the coffee table, dragging Betty after her, knocking stacks of paper to the floor.

“Veronica.” Hermione scolded.

Betty dropped to her knees to help gather the documents.

“Oh!” Her mother said, eyes frantically scanning a single page.

“Mom?” The girls asked, worry dripping from their tones.

“Betty.” Hermione muttered. “It’s your adoption paperwork. I haven’t seen this in... Hmm... That’s strange.”

“What?” Betty asked.

She didn’t respond. _“_

 _Mom!”_ She demanded. “What is it? What’s strange.”

“It says here that you were born here, right here in Riverdale.”

Betty’s jaw fell.

“I...” She rasped. “I thought I was born in New York.” A funny look crossed her mother’s face.

“I must have read it wrong.” Hermione shoved the paper back into its rightful manila envelope. “Well... You’d better get going, _amores_ ¸ you’re going to be late.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Forsythia Paige Jones!” Toni scolded. “Why would you bite your teacher?” 
> 
> “She called me Forsythia.” 
> 
> “That’s your name, Jellybean.”

* * *

“Betty!” Cheryl chirped, beaming at her. “I just _knew_ that you and Veronica would make the _perfect_ additions to the Vixens!”

Betty forced a smile, watching as the red headed captain flounced off to the locker room.

“Thank god no one knows you as well as I do.” Veronica grumbled, snatching her duffle bag from the bleachers where she’d left it upon entering. “Otherwise, they would have seen just how off your game you were. C’mon, B, you could do that routine in your sleep! At Spence, you and I took turns at the top of the Elites pyramid. What’s going on with you? You’re not still thinking about this morning, are you?”

“Maybe a little?” She confessed, and her sister sighed. “Don’t you think it’s weird, V? Daddy always told me that I was born in New York, but the adoption paperwork says I was born here.”

“What’s weird is the way you’re obsessing about this, Betty.” Veronica snapped. “Don’t tell me you’re actually curious about _them_ now.” Betty bit down on her lip.

_Them_ was Veronica’s code name for her biological parents. She had always been protective over the knowledge that Betty had, in fact, been adopted almost immediately after birth after being discovered by an unknown person. She had been left in a basket, a single blanket wrapped around her for warmth on some random street she had thought to be in New York. How could her parents have gotten such a minor detail wrong?

“Oh my god, you actually are.”

“They’re my parents, V.” Betty defended warily.

She scowled. “Your parents are Hiram and Hermione Lodge, _those people_ were only good for one thing, B, and that was creating you.”

Was she right? Betty sighed. Before that morning, she had never given _those people_ , her biological parents, a second thought.

“Betty-Bee.” Veronica muttered, reaching for her hand, squeezing softly. “I don’t care about _those people_ , and neither should you. You are my sister, you are a Lodge, and you are fabulous. Never forget that, or how much I love you.”

She managed a watery smile. “I love you too, V, more than you’ll ever know.”

She was pulled into a tight embrace, a kiss playfully pressed to the top of her head.

“C’mon.” She muttered, tugging on her hand. “Let’s get out of here. Archie’s taking us to Pop’s.”

Betty looked skeptical. “What, exactly, is Pop’s?”

“Some retro diner that Riverdale is apparently famous for.” Veronica let her shoulders drop in a shrug. “Who cares, Archie will be there, and so will Chuck.”

_“Great.”_

_“Betty.”_ She warned. “He’s cute, and he likes you. What more could you ask for?”

“How about a personality?” Betty snapped. “All that guy can talk about is himself, Veronica. I want someone who loves to read old classics, and watch movies, and who...”

Veronica arched a perfectly plucked brow in challenge. “Who _what,_ B?”

A blush rose to her cheeks. “Someone who... Likes a little adventure... Maybe a little danger?”

She snorted, tugging her along. “Danger? Elizabeth Pauline, you’ve been listening to our mother _far_ too much. Come on, Archiekins is waiting.” _“_

_Archiekins?”_ Betty mocked,, thinking back to all the times Archie had called her sister _Ronnie_ in the last two days. “You two have nicknames for each other now?”

“I really like him, Betty-Bee!” Veronica gushed. “He’s not like any of the boys we grew up with.”

“What about Nick?” She asked.

Back in the city, Nick and Veronica had been the “will they, won’t they” couple amongst their wide circle of friends. He had even kissed her two days before they had left, completely unaware of their impending move to Riverdale.

“Nick-Shmick.” She replied, tossing her hair. “I’ve moved onto bigger, and better men, and anyway, Nick is a creep, B, I cannot believe I ever considered dating him.”

“So is Chuck.” Betty muttered.

Veronica exhaled angrily through her nostrils. “Fine, Elizabeth, don’t date Chuck, but hear me now, you will _not_ settle for anything less than perfection. I simply won’t allow it.”

Betty nudged her sister forward, giggling. “I love you, V.”

“And I love you, darling little sister.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m three months younger than you, Veronica Lodge.”

“Yes, Betty dear, but you have always been, and always will be, my baby sister.”

Just as they began to enter the locker room, it swung open, the two girls bumping into a third. It was Cheryl’s pink haired friend, Toni, Betty thought her name was, and as kind as she had been, the sight of the all too familiar leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

“Oh... Oh my god!” Betty cried, her grip on Veronica’s hand tightening. “I am so sorry! I wasn’t... I wasn’t watching where I was going! I’m sorry!”  


* * *

“B.” Veronica scolded.

“Betty.” Toni echoed, shaking her head, a kind smile on her face. “Betty, hey, don’t be sorry. It’s my fault, I didn’t see you there.”

“No worries.” The raven haired girl replied, brushing past her, dragging a stuttering Betty after her. “Come on, B, we’re gonna be late.”

With a shrug, and a raised brow, Toni exited the gym.

A sharp whistle pierced the air, stopping her in her tracks.

“Toni!” A little voice called.

“Hi munchkin!” She cried, abandoning her bags on the floor to catch the blur of the blonde haired four year old as Jellybean threw herself at her elder sister. Spinning her around in a quick twirl, she held the little girl to her hip. “How was school? Did you draw me a new picture for my wall?”

“No!” Jellybean declared, smiling proudly. “I drew you _three_ pictures!”

“Tell her what _else_ you did today, Jellybean.” Jughead demanded, lips forming a thin line.

“Bean?” Toni asked.

“I... I bit Misses. Clause.” The little girl responded, smile quickly fading.

“Forsythia Paige Jones!” Toni scolded. “Why would you bite your teacher?”

“She called me _Forsythia.”_

“That’s your _name_ , Jellybean.” He reminded her.

“You don’t go by _your_ real name.” She teased, putting Jellybean down. _“Forsyth.”_

“Neither do you, _Antionette.”_ Jughead shot back. “Never mind. That wasn’t very nice, Jellybean. No TV or desert tonight, and you’re going to draw a picture for your teacher to apologize.”

Jellybean’s eyes filled with tears. “Jug-”

“No buts, little monster.” He chided gently, swinging her into the air, making her giggle as his fingers probed her sides. “Come on, T, we’ve gotta go.”

“Go?” Toni repeated, brows knitting together in suspicion. “Where?”

“There’s a meeting tonight, Toni.” Jughead said, catching her sleeve. “We need to talk about the Ghoulies. I already texted Cher.”

“But... We were supposed to go to Pop’s.” She protested, dragging her feet.

“Everyone’s waiting.” He snapped, his grip on her arm never wavering. “Toni, c’mon, can you stop being a stubborn pain in my ass, and just do what I say? For once?”

“What about Jellybean?”

“She’ll stay in the office, same as always.”

“Jug.” Toni sighed. “It’s not good for her.”

“Toni-”

“Late nights, in a bar, with drunk idiots, smoking and doing god knows what else...” She sighed again. “It’s not good for her.”

“What do you want me to do, T?” Jughead gritted out, and she knew he was doing everything in his power to refrain from swearing around their little sister. “Leave her with mom?”

Toni scowled. “She is _not_ my mother, Jughead.”

“She’s your mother as much as she is mine.” He grumbled. “Actually, you have a point... I’m not leaving Jellybean with her, Toni... But you’re right. I’ll try to figure something else out for her. She’ll be okay in the office tonight, though, won’t you, Jellybean?”

She nodded.

“She’s going to want to go by JB when she gets older.” Toni said, grinning.

“Nope.”

“No?”

“No.” Jughead insisted, poking Jellybean’s waist, making her squeal. “Impossible. She’s not allowed to get any older.”

Still smiling, she allowed her brother to pull out to the parking lot, towards his truck. They usually rode their bikes to school in the morning, Jughead returning to the house to grab the truck so he could pick Jellybean up by four while Toni attended cheer practice.

“By the way, you really did a number on Betty Lodge.”

Jughead glanced up at her, still struggling to buckle the four year old into her car seat, a perplexed look in his eyes. “Who?”

“Elizabeth Lodge?” Toni questioned. “The new girl? She and her sister Veronica just moved here from New York?”

“Not ringing a bell, T.” He admitted, returning his full attention to their sister.

“You ran into her yesterday?”

“Oh, right.” He muttered, seemingly uninterested. “She ran into me, Antionette, get the story right at least.”

“I was there, Jughead.”

He pierced her with an unkind glare. “And?”

“And.” Toni replied cheekily. She was the only one, besides Jellybean, of course, that could challenge his authority and get away with it, though she knew better than to pull any kind of stunt like that in front of the other Serpents. “You definitely ran into her, Jug, and then, you scared the shit out of her. She saw my jacket and freaked the fuck out.”

_“Toni.”_ Jughead warned.

“I’m just saying, you might have scarred her for life.”

“Well good.” He decided, slamming the back door shut, sliding behind the wheel. “She should be scared. There’s a lot of scary things in Riverdale.”

She shot her brother a pointed look.

“I’m sorry about Pop’s.” Jughead muttered, the truck rumbling to life. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll stop by tonight and get some takeout for you, me and the little monster.”

* * *

“Well hey there, pretty lady.”

She was beginning to regret insisting that Veronica leave early with Archie, to hear him play some songs at his home before she brought him to their own, and refusing Chuck’s repeated offers to give her a ride, unable to stand the idea of being in such a close proximity with the blabbering, self-centered athlete.

Betty had wanted, _needed_ some time alone, to think about the earlier morning occurrences, the adoption paperwork she had never been permitted to see, the mix up over where, exactly, she had been born, to wonder if her sister was right, if she truly needed to let it go.

_Let it go._ A voice in her head, one that sounded suspiciously like Veronica’s, had nagged. _You know who your father is, you know who your mother is, you know who your sister is, you know who **you** are. You are Elizabeth Lodge, you have always been Elizabeth Lodge, and you will always be Elizabeth Lodge. No matter what._

“Uh, hi.”

The boy grinned, leaning forward as if to get a better look at her, his palms kneading the table top of her booth. He was tall, slim, with long, dark, curly brown hair piled on top of his head, the sides and the back cut shorter. His shirt had been left unbuttoned shirts, and he was covered in body paint, creating an almost _ghoulish_ appearance.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Actually, I was just about to...”

Ignoring her stumbled response, he slid into the seat beside her, resting his bare arm on the cushion behind her.

Betty’s nose crinkled in disgust. He smelled awful.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, _Blondie.”_ He said. “I’m Malachai, but you probably knew that.”

She rolled her eyes in a less than subtle way.

“What’s your name, girlie?”

“I have to go.” Betty muttered, snatching her purse, gesturing for him to rise, but he didn’t. “If you’ll excuse me...”

Malachai caught her wrist in a bruising grip. “Where’s the fire, Princess? All I asked you for was your name. You got somewhere better to be, bitch?”

“Actually, I-”

“Hey, _Betts.”_ A new voice called, and her heart began to race just at the sound. “Sorry I’m late, babe. I got a little tied up.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?” He demanded tiredly. 
> 
> “You know my name.” She said. 
> 
> Jughead chuckled under his breath. “Well, yeah, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.” 
> 
> “Then why do you keep calling me Princess?” Betty asked.

* * *

He wasn’t sure why he did it.

Maybe it was the same blonde girl he’d bumped into the day before, clutching her expensive looking bag, obviously ready to leave, but she couldn’t due to the brute sitting beside her. Maybe it was the Ghoulie, one of many that Jughead couldn’t stand the sight of, his skin crawling.

Maybe it was a little bit of both, pretty little Elizabeth Lodge, seemingly defenseless and clueless, completely unaware of the danger directly in front of her, and for reasons he didn’t understand, Jughead couldn’t stomach the idea of anyone touching her.

“You tryna make time with my girl, Casper?” He taunted.

Betty’s eyes widened at his words, surprised, though Malachai was too bust sizing Jughead up to notice.

“Bull shit, _Serpent King.”_ Malachai seethed. “I’ve never seen this bitch before in my life, and I’m willing to bet that you haven’t either.”

“What do you want to wager?” Jughead sneered, stepping closer to the booth. “Call her a bitch one more time, and I’ll fucking end you.”

Betty inhaled sharply, biting down on her lip so hard, he thought it might start bleeding. His gaze briefly flickered to meet her own, his hardened expression softening for only a moment, a silent promise that he would take car of it, almost pleading for her to play along.

Her blonde ponytail swung as she offered a subtle nod in response.

“As for not seeing her before...” He drew out, glancing Betty up and down. “Come on, ghost boy, you _obviously_ noticed how gorgeous she is. Why do you think I’ve been keeping her to myself?”

Malachai snorted. “Whatever, Jonesy. She don’t belong to you. Now, if you’ll excuse us...”

With a simple shrug, Jughead stepped up to the booth, grabbing the front of his unbuttoned shirt, and lifting him from the booth, dropping down beside Betty in his place, his arm coming around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“You kept me waiting.” Betty muttered.

He smirked, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head, just for show. She was good, he thought, really good.

“Sorry, Betts.” Jughead mumbled. “Was this freak bothering you?”

“Actually...” She said. “He was, and he probably should have known better... Right, Juggie?”

“Definitely, babe.” He gritted out, piercing Malachai with an unkind glare. “If you so much as even breathe in her direction again, it’ll be fucking over, _Casper.”_

Malachai merely rolled his eyes, storming out of the diner.

Jughead withdrew his arm, studying her carefully.

“You okay?” He asked.

“That was weird.” Betty admitted, blinking. “Why did you do that?”

“You needed help.” Jughead answered, shrugging. “And, Malachai is bad news. You should stay away from him, Princess.”

She frowned at the nickname. “Why?”

“Just trust me.”

“Jughead-” _“_

_Betty.”_ He warned, holding her in place with a glower. “Just trust me, okay?”

Betty stared at him in surprise.

“What?” He demanded tiredly.

“You know my name.” She said.

Jughead chuckled under his breath. “Well, yeah, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“Then why do you keep calling me _Princess?”_ Betty asked.

“Because.” He replied. “It fits, doesn’t it? But if you really hate it, I could always call you something else, _Blondie.”_

“Jughead.”

“Babe?”

_“Jughead...”_

“Betts.” Jughead laughed. “Would you relax? I’m just messing with you, _babe.”_

She rolled her eyes.

A moment of uneasy silence filled the diner.

“Thank you."

He arched a brow. “For?”

“Stepping in.” Betty said, meeting his gaze. “That guy was a creep.”

Jughead waved her away. “No problem, Princess. If he ever bothers you again, just let me know. We’ll take care of them.”

_“We?”_

“Betty.” He sighed. “Drop it, _please._ It’s... It’s better if you don’t know.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but her phone chiming cut her off.

“I have to go.” Betty told him, though he didn’t stand up to let her out. “Jughead, I have to. I’m supposed to be home by nine-thirty.”

“A curfew.” Jughead sniggered. Pop arrived, handing him his takeout order. “Ain’t that fucking cute. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

“A _ride_ , Princess.” He repeated, reaching for her hand. When she didn’t flinch away, he laced his fingers through her own, pulling her after him. “You know, usually involves getting into a car, steering wheel? Seat belts? Gas and break pedals? The whole nine yards.”

“God you’re annoying.” Betty grumbled, her grip on her bag tightening. “I meant, why would you give me a ride? I don’t live that far from here.”

“Because for all I know, Malachai is still out there, and he thinks you’re with me, so let’s keep it that way.” Jughead unlocked the truck, throwing the passenger door open. “It’s just a ride, Princess, if it makes you feel better, I’ll even drop you off around the corner so you don’t have to be seen with me, but for right now, _just get in the fucking truck.”_

Betty shook her head, clearly stubborn as she tugged her arm free. “I can walk.”

“Princess.”

“I’m more than capable of seeing myself home, thank you very much.”

_“Betty.”_ He gritted out, losing patience.

She took a step back from him.

“Good night, Jughead.” She spun on her heel, ready to walk away.

“I could always make you, you know.” Jughead called after her.

Betty ignored him.

With a shrug, he broke the distance between them in a single stride, catching her around the waist, swinging her over his shoulder. She was light, and her hair smelled like jasmine, and he tried to ignore just how _nice_ it felt to hold Elizabeth Lodge in his arms.

“Juggie!” She cried out.

It was the second time she had called him that. Strangely, he didn’t mind. He settled her into the cab with a satisfied smirk.

“You’re such a caveman.” Betty hissed when he slid behind the wheel, the doors locking behind him.

“For the record, I did ask nicely.” Jughead reminded her. “Where am I taking you?”

“Pembrooke.” She answered, reluctantly.

* * *

The ride was short, and eerily silent.

She snuck glances at the raven haired boy as he drove, studying him. He caught her once or twice, and even as she looked away quickly, she knew his stupid, arrogant smirk was back in place.

“So...” He drew out, his voice startling her. “No offense, or anything, but you really resemble the rest of the Lodge’s. Did mommy have an affair with the milkman, or something?”

“I was adopted.” Betty replied.

Alarm swept across his face.

“Shit, um...” Jughead stammered. “Fuck, I’m sorry... That was uncalled for.”

She waved his apology away. “It’s okay. After being the only blonde in a family of brunette’s, I’m used to it.”

“I’m still sorry.” He muttered.

“Don’t be.” She told him. “I’ve never really thought about my biological parents before... My mom and dad never made me feel any different.”

The doubt she had felt that morning finally dissipated completely. She was a Lodge, perhaps not by blood, but in name, and as far as she was concerned, that was all she needed.

Jughead pulled up to the corner of her apartment building.

“I should go.” Betty said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Um, thank you for the-”

He caught her arm, the door closing as he pulled her back.

She stared at him in concern. “Jug-”

“When we were nine...” He rasped. “My dad adopted Toni. Her grandfather was getting too old to take care of her, and she didn’t have any other family. She’s always been my sister, and I would hate for her to ever feel like an outsider... I really am sorry, Betty. I shouldn’t have said that.”

It was the sincerest thing that had left his mouth all night.

“It’s okay.” Betty repeated.

A moment of silence passed between them.

“Uh, I should really...”

“Yeah.” He mumbled.

“Good night, Jughead.” She whispered, throwing the door open. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Good night, Blondie.” Jughead responded.

Betty giggled. “What, no _Princess?”_

“Nah.” He insisted, meeting her gaze with a grin. “Somehow, I get the feeling that your sister is more of a princess than you are, _babe.”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t worry about your sister, princesa.” Hermione smoothed Betty’s hair back with a single hand before cupping her cheek, her palm soft and cool against her skin. “She just doesn’t understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you all for your kind words! I love reading your comments!

* * *

_“Mija.”_ Hermione drew out, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. “What is this I hear about you walking home last night?”

Betty frowned at her own reflection. “Thank you _so_ much, Veronica.”

“What you did was stupid, B.” Veronica returned, straightening her pearls. “You could have been really hurt.”

She hadn’t been planning on telling anyone who, exactly, had given her a ride. Her conversation with Jughead had made her late, though luckily, she had a sister to cover for her, expertly sneaking her through the front door while their mother took a bubble bath.

Unfortunately, Veronica was as suspicious as she was loyal. She had cornered Betty in the hall, demanding to know where she had been, and with the most courage she could muster, Betty had told her that she had ended up walking home, much to Veronica’s disgust.

She should have known better than to think that said sister wouldn’t take her concerns directly to their mother.

“Veronica, I’ll handle this.” Hermione cautioned. The same manila envelope from the morning before was in her hands. _“Nena,_ why didn’t you call Smithers?”

“Mommy, I was perfectly-”

“Elizabeth Pauline Lodge.” She hissed. “The same rules we had in New York apply to Riverdale. _You do not walk home alone after dark._ Do you understand me?”

“Mom-”

_“ _ _Do you understand me?”___

Betty bowed her head, utterly defeated. “Yes ma’am... I’m sorry, mommy, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, _corazoncita.”_ Hermione dropped down onto her perfectly made bed, patting the spot beside her. There were still boxes everywhere, and they had been instructed not to make any plans for the weekend with their new group of friends, their mother adamant that they spend both Saturday and Sunday painting and unpacking. Without Hiram, money was tight, so they had to do all the work themselves. “I love you so much, Elizabeth, you and Veronica are my entire world. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you two.”

She passed the envelope to Betty.

“Mom!” Veronica protested, utterly horrified.

“I’ll handle this, Veronica.” She insisted, fixing the raven haired girl with a warning look. “Why don’t you finish getting ready for school.”

“Mother-”

_“ _Now_ , _Veronica.”

Pouting, Veronica spun on her heel, her own bedroom door slamming shut.

“Don’t worry about your sister, _princesa.”_ Hermione smoothed Betty’s hair back with a single hand before cupping her cheek, her palm soft and cool against her skin. “She just doesn’t understand.”

“Mommy-” Betty began.

_“Mija_ , I love you, more than anything.” Her mother said. “Oh Betty, I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry?” She echoed, brows knitting together in confusion. “What for?”

Hermione sighed. “For the way I handled things yesterday. I think finding that paperwork blindsided me, but I shouldn’t have sent you away like that. I am _so_ sorry, _mi vida,”_

Betty threw her arms around the woman in response, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her Chanel perfume.. “Don’t apologize, mommy, I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to see that.”

It couldn’t have been easy for adoptive parents, she realized, being reminded that the child they knew, loved, cared for and protected had at one time belonged to someone else. It didn’t mean they loved the child any less, that she was not just as loved as Veronica was, though perhaps she had been a little more protected, a little more sheltered than her sister, kept from knowing the truth, though she had only thought about her adoption once or twice in her sixteen years. But here the truth was, at least, part of it, in her hands, and she didn’t know how to feel anymore.

Seeming to guess her thoughts, Hermione pulled back from the embrace, her hands returning to cup Betty’s cheeks.

“You deserve to know where you came from, _mi cielito_.”

“Mommy...”

“Before you do this, _mija,_ I want you to know, this changes nothing. You are _my_ daughter, Elizabeth Pauline, you will _always_ be my daughter, _nena_. Always.”

Tears filled her eyes.

_You are Elizabeth Lodge._ She told herself. _Hiram Lodge is your father, Hermione Lodge is your mother, and Veronica Lodge is your sister._

_Always._

Wordlessly, Betty handed the folder back to her.

“Betty...” Hermione began.

“You’re right, mommy.” Betty said. “It doesn’t change anything. I’m _your_ daughter, not anyone else’s. I don’t want to know who _they_ are... I’m your daughter, mom, I’ve always been your daughter, I’ve always been a Lodge.”

A single tear slid down her mother’s cheek.

“Yes, _mija.”_ She agreed, pulling Betty close, kissing the top of her head. “You are _my_ daughter, you _are_ a Lodge, _mi vida_ , you are mine, and your father’s, and your sister’s, and we are so, _so_ lucky to have you, Elizabeth. You will never know how lucky we are.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, for my fake boyfriend, I sure don’t know a lot about you.”

* * *

She had clearly underestimated the width of the chair she was standing on.

He had been watching her hang the poster for Friday’s game in a lesser used corridor of Riverdale High, admiring her curves, and the way she sang to herself, moving to the beat of her own music, thinking she was alone. He was easily becoming convinced that Elizabeth Lodge could have been some sort of vixen despite her array of colorful pastel sweaters, modest skirts and designer dresses.

There was something about her, something that made him want to know more.

Betty stepped off the chair, losing her balance, and he rushed forward to catch her, one arm hooking under her legs, the other sliding across her back.

She gasped, surprised.

“Easy there, Klutzy.” He teased.

Betty scowled. “Great. _Another_ nickname.”

“Sorry, _babe.”_ Jughead taunted, no apology in his tone, only amusement. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She replied, sighing. “Just, you know... _Klutzy.”_

He sniggered.

“Uh... Jughead?”

“Yeah?”

“You can put me down, you know.”

“O-Oh...” He stammered, returning her feet to the ground. “Right, sorry.”

“So...” Betty drew out, glancing back at the poster she’d hung. “Are you coming to the game tomorrow night?”

Jughead snorted. “You’re joking, right?”

She arched a brow in confusion.

“You’re new here.” He reminded her. “It’s not your fault you don’t know. Betts, people like me... We don’t _do_ football games.”

“Your sister is a cheerleader.” Betty pointed out.

He let his shoulders drop in a shrug.

“What do you mean, people like _you?”_

“Never mind, Blondie.”

“You know, for my fake boyfriend, I sure don’t know a lot about you.”

_“Betty.”_ Jughead warned, waving her away. “Never mind, okay? The... The less you know about me, the better.”

Her lips formed a thin line. “I should go.”

“Betty-”

“No.” She insisted, stepping away before he could catch her arm. “Really. Veronica is waiting for me.”

He snorted again. “Right. Wouldn’t want to keep _Sister Dearest_ waiting.”

“If that was a ploy on _Mommie Dearest_ , then well done.” Betty deadpanned, adjusting the weight of her black pleather purse against her shoulder. “However, neither my sister, nor my mother are anything like Joan Crawford’s neurotic character.”

“What about your father?” Jughead demanded.

He regretted the words the second they left his mouth. A hurt look crossed her face.

“I stand by my father.” Betty said. “He’s a good man, Jughead, he’s just done some bad things... And... He loves me, okay? And I love him, just as much as I always have.”

Jughead nodded.

“Betty.” He called, when she turned to walk away.

She hesitated. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“It’s okay.” Betty said, forcing a watery smile. “I really do have to go, uh... Thank you, by the way, for the rescue.”

Jughead offered her a two fingered salute. “Any time, _babe.”_

She rolled her eyes, but her smile became more genuine.

He headed off in the opposite direction, barreling straight into the muscular chest of his former best friend.

“Fuck, Arch.” He gritted out. “Could you watch where you’re fuckin’ going?”

“Why were you talking to Betty?” Archie demanded, crossing his arms.

Jughead chuckled darkly. “What are you, Archie? Her fucking bodyguard?”

“Why were you talking to her?” He repeated.

Raising a single brow in disbelief, he laughed in the red headed boy’s face, stepping around him.

“Later, Archie.”

“Stay the hell away from her, Jughead.” Archie called after him.

“And why the fuck would I do that?”

“She’s too good for you, Jug.” Archie told him. “You two are from completely different worlds. Do you really think she would give you the time of day if she knew you were? If she knew what you did?” Jughead spun back around. “Do _you_ even know what I do, Arch?”

“I... I know enough.” He defended warily. “Look, Jughead, Veronica and Betty have had enough to deal with, the last thing Betty needs is more drama, let alone the danger you would inevitably bring her, so either you stay away from her, or I’ll make sure she stays away from you.”

“Archie, Archie, Archie.” Jughead drawled, stepping closer to him. “I would _love_ to see you try.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What happened to being more adventurous, hmm?”  
> “That was your idea, Veronica, not mine.”

* * *

 

“Betty, _what are you wearing?”_

“Clothes.” Betty replied bluntly, glancing down at the old leggings with a hole in the left knee, and the _Spence_ t-shirt she’d won at a football game, the perfect attire for a day of painting, blonde tresses pulled back into two French braids to keep it from falling back into her face. Her gaze moved to her sister, eyes widening at her appearance. “Veronica, what are _you_ wearing?”

The elder Lodge girl had taken the time to curl her own midnight black hair, donning a black skirt that showed off her tan legs, a purple shirt and her ever present pearls, adding a pair of heels to give her a more confident height.

“Clothes.” She mimicked, shaking her head in disgust. “You still have time to change, B.”

“V...”

“What?”

“You know we’re painting today, yes?”

“Yes, Elizabeth, I am well aware.” Veronica turned to study her reflection in the mirror. “Mother was so kind enough to remind me when she woke me up this morning, _at six AM.”_

Betty resisted the urge to laugh; Veronica normally slept till noon on a Saturday.

“That outfit does nothing for you, Betty-Bee, and I’m only saying this because I love you, well, and because you _are_ a Lodge, and as a Lodge, it’s important for you to look your best.”

“Veronica.”

“Personally, I love your sweaters and cardigans, but would it kill you to be a little more adventurous?”

“Veronica-”

“We’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Veronica decided, continuing on as if Betty had never spoken at all. “That is, if this one stoplight town has any _decent_ places to go.”

“Veronica...”

“Oh! I bet Cheryl would know where we could go, she always looks amazing. Like us.”

“V.”

“I suppose there’s always online shopping, but mommy decided to cut up my credit card the second we left New York, she promised to give me another one. I haven’t seen it _yet-”  
_

_“Veronica!”_

“What?” She demanded.

“We’re _painting_ today.” Betty reminded her.

“Yes, B, I know, we’ve already discussed that.”

“So if you know, then why are you dressed like that?”

Her sister pursed her lips. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

She snorted. “For who, our mother?”

“Not exactly...”

There was a knock at the door.

“Veronica.” Betty sighed, already knowing. “What did you do?”

* * *

 

“It’s so nice of you to spend your Saturday helping us paint.” Hermione stated, studying his handiwork carefully. A subtle move to some, but Betty knew that she was ensuring Archie was working up to her usual standards.

“It’s not a problem, Mrs. Lodge.” He replied earnestly.

Her mother frowned.

“Hermione, please.” She insisted, wanting no reminders of her husband. “I wish Veronica would have told me that you were coming...”

Hermione sent a pointed look in Veronica’s direction, though she pretended not to notice, too busy trying to decide on what color she wanted for her bedroom, their next target.

“Are you sure you want to paint your room pink, Betty-Bee?” Veronica asked. “It’s just so... _You.”_

“That’s kind of the point, V.”

“What happened to being more adventurous, hmm?”

“That was your idea, Veronica, not mine.”

_“Reinita,_ leave your sister alone.” Hermione warned, throwing her another sharp glance. “I think the color you picked out is lovely, Elizabeth, it’s the exact same color I would have chosen for you, _mi cielito.”_

“I think it’s nice, Betty.” Archie offered, stepping down from the ladder.

She smiled at him in response, momentarily getting lost in the depths of his blue eyes as he grinned back.

_He’s Veronica’s._ Betty reminded herself, forcing her gaze to fall on a photograph of herself and Veronica at the age of two, proudly displayed front and center on the glass coffee table. _She made it clear that he’s hers._

Besides, another blue eyed boy had caught her own attention.

“Mommy!” Veronica suddenly shrieked.

_“Mija?”_ Hermione asked worriedly, as Betty and Archie whirled around to face her sister.

She was close to tears, stretching the end of her skirt as far as it would go, a drop of paint beginning to blotch the fabric.

“Oh for goodness’s sake Veronica.” She snapped, grasping her wrist, yanking her towards the nearest bathroom. “It’s just a stain, _corazón,_ it’s not a life or death matter. I thought you were hurt!”

Betty couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry.” She told Archie. “She’s a little obsessed with her image.”

“I think she always looks great.” Archie admitted, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Um, Betty, has Veronica... mentioned me at all?”

Betty pressed her lips together, pretending to zip them. “Sorry, Archie, but anything my sister has, or hasn’t said, is between us.”

He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Understood.”

She could hear her mother and sister arguing back and forth, the closed door doing little to muffle their voices, but as she prepared to go and play mediator, a role she had done well with in the past, Archie caught her arm, halting her.

“Listen, Betty, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Betty looked at him quizzically. “If this is about Veronica, I just told you-”

“It’s not.” He said quickly. “It’s not about Veronica, Betty, it’s about Jughead, and why you should stay away from him.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Betty, he's in a gang."
> 
> “That’s an unkind accusation, Archie Andrews.”

* * *

 

“Betty, he’s in a gang.”

Her jaw fell. “Excuse me?”

“Jughead.” Archie said, lowering his voice. “He’s in a gang, has been since our freshman year. The Serpents. The Southside Serpents.”

Well, that explained the jacket.

“That’s why I told you to stay away from him your first day.”

“That’s an unkind accusation, Archie Andrews.” Betty spat, suddenly feeling protective of the boy she barely knew.

It could have been true, after Jughead’s statement of _we’ll take care of him_ if that creep from the diner were to ever bother her again, the leather jacket that several of her new peers wore like a second skin, and his overall demeanor, cold, calculated, guarded, protective, though she had seen his softer side, but he had saved her life twice now, didn’t she owe him the benefit of the doubt?

“It’s not an...” Archie sighed, sidling closer to her. “Betty, it’s the truth, it’s... It’s the reason Jughead and I stopped being friends.”

“You and Jughead were-”

“Best friends.” He admitted, refusing to look at her. “Nearly brothers. He picked them over me. I tried to talk him out of it, I begged him not to join, but Jughead always was a stubborn son of a bitch. He said if I couldn’t accept him, then he wanted nothing to do with me.”

Betty thought back to his harsh reaction her first day of school, the feelings of hostility between Archie and Jughead almost tangible, and now she knew why.

“He’s really in a gang?”

“A leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding, drug selling, murderous gang.”

_“Drugs?”_ She demanded in a harsh whisper. _“Murder?_ Archie, really.”

“Ask around.” Archie challenged. “I’m only telling you because I don’t want to see you get hurt, Betty, you’re better than Jughead. You deserve better.”

He’d let his guard down, he had told her about Toni after learning that she had been adopted too. He had kissed the top of her head, even as a show that she was his faux girlfriend. He had saved her from falling.

She barely knew him.

But could a boy like that really have sold drugs? Killed someone, maybe?

Betty tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Suddenly, she didn’t want to know.

Seemingly satisfied, Archie rested a hand on her shoulder. “If he bothers you again, let me know. Me and the boys will take care of it.”

She nodded numbly.

“What’s going on?” Veronica asked, reentering the room, her paint stain gone. She surveyed them closely. “Betty-Bee, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

“We were just talking about that god awful math test that’s coming up.” He said, his grip tightening. “Right, Betty?”

Betty nodded again. “Archie was just saying that maybe we should all study together.”

Veronica actually clapped her hands together in delight. “What a great idea, Archiekins! Where should we do it? The library? Here?”

“How about my house.” Archie offered. “Monday, after practice?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who’s we, Jughead?”

* * *

 

His hands shot out, catching her by the arms as she barreled into him.

Knowing who it was, Elizabeth Lodge seemed to be an accident prone person, he didn’t bother pretending to be angry to keep up appearances, merely smirking at her startled expression.

“Always running into me, Betts.” He sneered.

“I’m sorry.” Betty muttered, trying to break free from his grasp.

Jughead frowned at her tone, tightening his grip. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Betty-”

“Jughead, I said I’m fine.” She snapped, yanking her arm back. “I’m just late, okay? I have to meet Veronica.”

“Ah yes, wouldn’t want to keep _Sister Dearest_ waiting.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Betty hissed, fixing him with a hard look. “Veronica isn’t... She’s... Just don’t, okay?”

“Okay.” Jughead mumbled, frown deepening. “What’s going on, babe?”

“And don’t call me _babe.”_

She turned to walk away.

Had it been anyone else, Jughead would have let them go without a fight, glad to be rid of the drama, but there was something about little Elizabeth Lodge that made him curious, deriving a need to protect her, from what, he didn’t know.

He caught her wrist, pulling her back. When her back met the wall, he moved to cage her in, arms on either side of her body, preventing an escape.

“What’s the problem?” He demanded.

“The day you rescued me from that creep at Pop’s,” Betty stated, avoiding his gaze. “what did you mean by _we’ll take care of them?”_

“Betty...”

“Who’s _we_ , Jughead?”

“Betty.” He gritted out losing patience. “I told you, drop it, alright? The less you know, the better.”

She shook her head in disgust. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Is what true?”

“The _Serpents!”_ Betty spat. “The snake on the back of your jacket. You’re in a gang, aren’t you?”

“Where did you...” Jughead trailed off, already knowing. “Archie got to you, didn’t he?”

She didn’t answer.

He released her, stepping away. “Fuckin’ figures.”

He turned to walk away.

“Just tell me it’s not true, Jug.”

Jughead spun back around. “What?”

“Is it true?” Betty pressed, lowering her voice. “Are you in a gang? Do you... Do you sell _drugs?”_

He burst out laughing.

“What could possibly be funny right now, Jughead Jones?”

“Andrews really did a number on you,” Jughead replied, an emotionless smirk crossing his face. “Betty, why would I tell you anything when you’ve already made up your mind about who I am?”

“Jughead...” She protested.

“Just don’t pretend to be a saint, alright?” He sneered over his shoulder. “There’s a lot I could say about you too, Elizabeth _Lodge.”_

Her lips formed a thin line, tears beginning to form in her pretty green eyes, but he forced himself not to care.

“Hey Betty.” A familiar voice called. “Veronica was about to send out a search party?”

Archie and Chuck stood at the opposite end of the hall, Chuck looking like he was prepared for a rumble while Archie remained calm, cool and collected, as if he knew he had won.

Betty would never even so much as spare a glance in his direction again if Archie Andrews had anything to say about it.

“I’m coming.” Betty said, tone even.

“Can I carry your books?” Chuck asked, holding his arms out.

Much to Jughead’s surprise, she handed him over. Chuck leaned closer to her, mumbling something he couldn’t quite make out, but Betty didn’t flinch as the football player slipped his letterman jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

The trio walked away, with only Archie looking back, his expression smug.

“I told you, Jug, Betty wants nothing to do with you.”


End file.
